


A Queen and Her Sellsword

by RedLights



Series: Daenerys one-shots and drabbles [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLights/pseuds/RedLights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by anonymous request on Tumblr - Daario returns to Daenerys after a long journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Queen and Her Sellsword

The Tyroshi strode into her hall, bold as his golden armor. Faint candlelight bounced off the gleaming metal as he reached her place near the balcony. The Queen did not move but to incline her head, and Daario knelt in mocking humility. No matter, it was not humble loyalty she required from him today. He knew it as well as she. They had been apart for longer than planned, and now was not the time for formality. Not in her bedchambers, and not at this hour.

Each passing minute had grown longer in the days since he’d been away. Along with Ser Barristan and some Mereenese officials, he’d ridden beyond the walls to negotiate with the exile Masters who still opposed her rule. Daenerys trusted him most with the task, for he was as quick-witted as any and twice as charming. With him gone, her mornings in the stone hall were long and her nights unbearable. There was no excitement in days filled with duty, nothing to break the tedium. And none dared to show true affection to the Dragon Queen.

None but Daario, her roguish sellsword. Untrustworthy, to be certain, and improper; rough and menacing even in his smiles, but handsome and strong. He had subdued every threat for her, and it seemed he would even suffer through peace talks, if such was her command. Now he had returned from his journey. It was late enough to be nearly morning, and he’d gone straight to her chambers upon arriving. A nobleman would have sought an audience upon daybreak, but Daario did not wait on the Queen’s leisure. He knew she would receive him - and besides, he was no nobleman.

A smile played on the edge of her lips as she watched him, bending the knee to her. Even a sellsword captain like Daario Naharis was a subject at her mercy.

“Rise.” 

He did, and stepped closer to her. “My queen, with our persuasion and warnings, the Masters have vowed to cease their opposition. They have but few small demands in return, if you will hear them. I will gladly set a meeting upon the morrow.”

_Oh, he toys with me,_ she thought. _Daario knows well that I do not wish to speak business. Not at this hour, not when I haven’t seen him in a fortnight and a day_.

The queen nodded and turned away towards the open window, knowing that the moonlight shone through her sheer nightdress, silhouetting her slender frame. She heard laces, a clasp being undone, then the softened thud of the metal as he lay his armor and sword on the soft Qarthean rug. Now they were equals.

Daenerys smirked and inquired, “Is there no praise awaiting your queen, Ser? Have you no manners to speak of?”

A strong hand touched her waist and sent shivers through her. “None, my Queen,” Daario replied, “For I speak better without words. I’ll show my loyalty in different ways.”

Daenerys let herself laugh and twisted around to face him. “Perhaps I do not wish it so. I may have found another to warm my bed during your absence,” she teased. She saw Daario’s warm brown eyes darken with hunger. He, too, had been without companionship this past while, or so she liked to believe, and in any case he would not tolerate much conversation.

Pressing her small body hard against the wall, he spoke in a low growl. “I think not, Daenerys. You may be a queen, but you are also a woman, and I am a man.” She smiled, and he captured her lips with his.

As he kissed down her neck, forceful and unrelenting, she responded breathlessly, “This I know, my warrior, but do remind me again.” He lifted her as though she were but a doll and made his way towards the bed. She fell against the pillows and he tore the fabric from her, calloused hands against soft, pale skin. _At last,_ she thought. She was tired of being The Unburnt, and had missed these nights of being consumed with Daario’s flame.

**Author's Note:**

> I have more Dany/Daario that I'll post soon.


End file.
